Chapter 4 - Finished Reading
Gil had honestly underestimated Lizel.
No matter how much he looked the part of a noble, no matter how sheltered he might have been, Gil had assumed that the man standing before him had already become nothing more than an ordinary person. But now, at this very moment, he realized that it had only been Lizel adjusting his own pace to match Gil’s all along.
“I’d like to purchase every book in this store. How much would that be?”
“Hey—don’t you dare.”
He should have expected it the moment Lizel, who was normally so polite, interrupted Studd’s explanation just to insist on visiting the bookstore. Lizel’s excitement had risen far more than appearances suggested.
Looking closer, his eyes seemed to sparkle, and even his tone carried a subtle bounce. Ignoring the shopkeeper, who was blinking in shock, Gil glanced down at Lizel, who wore a troubled yet oddly delighted smile.
“Why the hell are you acting like a victim here?”
“It’s not like I haven’t thought this through, you know.”
“Then what exactly were you thinking to say something that stupid?”
“Well, you said yourself that there wasn’t a library, didn’t you?”
It was true. On the way here, Lizel had mentioned wanting to buy books and also visit a library. Gil’s response had been, “What the hell is a library?” Even after Lizel explained, Gil had simply told him such a place didn’t exist.
And now, inwardly, Lizel was crushed. Back in his original world, even his former student—now the king—had teased him with, “You’re always reading something.” Lizel had been, in truth, a full-blown print addict.
“So I figured, if there was anything close to it, that would be good enough.”
Of course, Lizel understood perfectly well that buying up all the books in this shop and carting them off would cause nothing but trouble. Which was why, after thinking it over, he had come out with that earlier proposal.
Looking straight into Gil’s scowling face—so intimidating it could silence even a crying child—Lizel spoke with a hint of pride.
“If I pay upfront for all the books, then I could come borrow whatever I like, whenever I like, right?”
“...”
“And once I finish a book, I’ll just leave it here. They’re second-hand to begin with, so it wouldn’t affect the store’s business.”
He even added, quite casually, that if he truly wanted a copy, he’d buy it at full price. At that moment, Gil thought to himself: This guy’s an idiot.
He had known since meeting Lizel that behind his mild demeanor, the man was always thinking. His apparent ignorance was surely a calculated façade; he wasn’t the type to simply expose weaknesses.
It wasn’t once or twice that Gil had wondered if he himself was being played along by Lizel. In fact, at this point he was convinced of it. Still, since their interests aligned—and Gil even found the game entertaining—he had no complaints.
“You...”
“Hm?”
“Nah, forget it.”
And yet, aside from all that, Gil now knew for certain: Lizel was an idiot. A clever idiot. A sharp-witted idiot. The kind of idiot who was all the more troublesome precisely because he was aware of it.
And the way he smiled with satisfaction—despite clearly knowing Gil’s thoughts—only proved it further.
“...You’re not actually gonna read every single book. At least try negotiating the price.”
“Yes.”
Lizel nodded obediently and approached the still-frozen shopkeeper. He explained the same idea he had just given Gil, smoothly talking the bewildered man into agreement.
Once the shopkeeper accepted the proposed system, only the matter of price remained. Since the plan placed virtually no burden on the shop, the man actually hesitated to demand too much money.
In the end, Lizel secured borrowing rights for far cheaper than the total value of the shop’s inventory. The negotiation wrapped up peacefully, with both Lizel and the shopkeeper smiling like cats that had lapped up cream.
“Well then, I’ll start by borrowing this whole shelf.”
“What? At least take half...”
“Gil, would you grab the top book for me?”
“There’s a damn step stool right there.”
Even so, Gil sighed in resignation and reached up. Lizel, ignoring the shopkeeper’s sputtering protests, proceeded to strip an entire shelf clean, promising he’d return them soon enough.
Normally, Lizel was a man of considerate restraint. But when it came to books, that restraint shattered completely. With the heartbroken shopkeeper seeing them off with a strained “Thank you very much,” Lizel and Gil stepped out of the store.
As they walked, Lizel stroked the enchanted pouch that could hold as many books as he wanted without adding weight or bulk, clearly impressed. The two of them, walking side by side, naturally drew stares—but by now, they were used to it.
“Almost noon,” Gil muttered.
“Yes. I’d like to try something like eating from food stalls as we walk,” Lizel replied.
“Doesn’t suit you at all... But fine, let’s go.”
For about three days, Lizel spent an ordinary daily life with Gil. They ate, slept, and lived together in a routine that was nothing remarkable—but at least Lizel had stopped doing things that made it painfully obvious he came from another world.
He still stood out, of course. Yet around the inn, where people had grown used to him, the stares and reactions gradually ceased. One could almost say he was beginning to blend in—though not quite.
After those first three days, Lizel granted Gil freedom of movement and shut himself away in his room. In truth, even during those early days, whenever Gil wasn’t watching, Lizel had done nothing but read. By the third day, when he returned the books he had borrowed and immediately checked out a new batch, Gil gave him the kind of look reserved for incomprehensible creatures.
But that was only the beginning. Lizel dove into reading with a fervor that left no room for doubt.
“I’ll borrow this,” Gil said.
“Go ahead,” Lizel replied.
When Gil entered the room to take a book, Lizel barely reacted. At best, he would give a half-hearted answer if spoken to. Supposedly, Lizel could manage some self-defense, but in this state, even a child could probably kill him.
With Lizel granting him free time, Gil took the occasional request to keep his body from going soft and went out whenever he felt like it. In his spare time, he simply sat in Lizel’s room and read as well. He didn’t hate reading. He didn’t particularly love it either—but it passed the time.
For Lizel, however, this was paradise. In his old world, he had bought every unfamiliar book on sight and had long since read through nearly everything, left only with the task of waiting for new publications. Here, he was surrounded by an endless mountain of unknown knowledge—a true treasure hoard.
“Hmm...” Lizel murmured.
So the days passed—about ten of them. He only went out to borrow or return books, or when Gil dragged him out for meals.
At last, after finishing the final volume, Lizel closed the book with a soft thud and stretched. Gil, who was also reading from his spot on the bed, looked up. His eyes flicked briefly to the page before him.
“‘He could not hide his astonishment. The man was like a fish that swam through oceans of shelves, devouring knowledge to live,’” Gil quoted aloud.
“‘I found him beautiful, though the world around him did not.’ ...So? Do I seem beautiful to you?” Lizel recited smoothly, quoting the next line with a teasing smile.
Gil gave him a look of pure exasperation. Lizel had read that book several days ago.
Despite having devoured dozens of books across all genres in the meantime, was he seriously saying he remembered everything? With Lizel, Gil couldn’t even dismiss it as impossible. And now the man waited for his response, amused.
“I think you’re an idiot.”
“That’s the first time anyone’s told me that.”
Both of them said it with dead-serious expressions.
“Well then, why don’t we go pick up a quest?” Lizel suggested.
“Normally you’d go first thing in the morning,” Gil muttered.
“Hm? But I can accept it today and start tomorrow, can’t I?”
“In the morning, there are more new requests. The good ones go fast.”
“I see,” Lizel nodded.
Of course, he was only F-rank right now, which meant he could only take F or E-rank quests. Such low-level work had no “first come, first served” rush to speak of.
It was already past noon. The guild would be less crowded. Since it was his first quest, Lizel would rather take his time and choose carefully.
“You’re seriously going on a job right after reading all day?” Gil asked.
“If I don’t move, my body will grow sluggish. And besides, if we don’t know each other’s strength, it’ll be troublesome when the time comes.”
“Strength, huh...”
Gil stood and strapped the sword—resting against the bed—onto his waist. He cast Lizel a glance. The man threw on his coat, but carried no weapon.
It was basic practice to always keep your weapon on you, even if you had a spatial-storage bag. In an emergency, you needed it at hand. Lizel had claimed he could defend himself, but it wasn’t as if he specialized in hand-to-hand combat.
Gil remembered his casual sleepwear: thin cloth over lightly toned muscles, his palms free of calluses or scars. That was not the body of a man who fought for a living.
“At this hour, we won’t get any long-distance jobs. Stick to something nearby,” Gil warned.
“Yes,” Lizel replied simply.
That probably meant he relied on magic. Gil made a mental note while considering which requests to pick. Since Lizel clearly intended to participate in combat, either gathering or subjugation would work.
As they descended the stairs, Gil’s eyes stayed on Lizel’s back. It would be a low-rank job no matter what. With Gil alongside him, there wouldn’t be even one chance in ten thousand of real danger.
“We’re heading out now,” Lizel called.
“Oh? Not tipping today, Mr. Lizel?” said the innkeeper, sweeping at the entrance.
Lizel smiled and laughed with her. On his first day at the inn, when handing over his room key, he had slipped a few copper coins her way, startling her.
Incidentally, she was the only one the innkeeper addressed with “Mr.” At the very beginning, it had even been “Lord.”
“Off to buy more books?” she asked.
“No, I’m making my adventurer debut today.”
“Goodness, that’s serious! Gil, you make sure to protect Mr. Lizel, you hear me?”
“Yeah.”
“Um, I’m the one taking the request, though,” Lizel muttered.
Lizel gave a wry smile at the innkeeper’s stern warning to Gil. Despite Gil’s rough demeanor and notorious reputation, which left most people hesitant or intimidated, this woman was one of the few who treated him no differently.
Gil himself found it easier that way—better than being tiptoed around—and that was probably why he had chosen this inn as his base. Still, treating a grown man like a misbehaving child seemed a bit much.
With the innkeeper sending them off, the two headed for the guild—though not without stopping by the bookstore first to return all the volumes Lizel had borrowed.
“Studd.”
The voice pulled Studd from the paperwork he was sorting. He had just finished registering a new adventurer earlier, and since registrations were few these days, he had assumed that was it for today and was about to help with the general reception.
But the voice he heard belonged to none other than the man who had, not long ago, left everyone in the guild dumbfounded. Studd lifted his gaze without hesitation.
“Oh, it’s you.”
“I came for the rest of the explanation—and to take on a quest.”
“It’s unusual for someone to leave such a long gap between registering and their first job.”
Lizel smiled faintly at the characteristically blunt tone. He knew there was no malice in it—if anything, Lizel appreciated such frankness. Still, he couldn’t help thinking what a disadvantageous personality it must be though.
“The bookstore you told me about had quite the collection. It took me some time to read through them all.”
“All of them...”
Studd’s eyes slid briefly toward Gil. The man was staring down at Lizel with an expression of deep exasperation and resignation. That alone told Studd everything.
Indeed, this one was anything but a typical adventurer. Studd gave a small, knowing nod.
“I’m glad it pleased you. Now then—about the rest of the explanation. I prepared this.”
He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a booklet. Thin but large, reinforced against tearing, it was clearly not an ordinary book.
Opening to the first spread, he set it in front of Lizel.
“It contains the guild’s regulations. I suspected you would want to know such details, so I borrowed it from the guildmaster after our last conversation.”
“That’s more than I could have hoped for. Thank you.”
Lizel smiled, but Studd only stared back in silence. Almost as if waiting for something.
On a whim, Lizel raised a hand. Studd’s gaze twitched and tracked the motion.
When Lizel reached toward him, Studd made no effort to avoid it. Certain of his hunch, Lizel patted him once, twice, three times. No resistance.
“Borrowing is prohibited, but reading it here is allowed,” Studd said evenly, making no comment about the hand stroking his smooth hair.
Behind him, Gil looked vaguely unsettled. ‘Isn’t this guy basically using some kind of brainwashing?’ he thought.
For Studd—the same man who would verbally flay anyone who so much as brushed against him—to allow his head to be patted without stabbing the offending hand with a pen... it was surreal.
Normally, even a casual touch would earn you verbal annihilation. One time, a drunk coworker had put an arm around his shoulder, and Studd’s icy glare had sobered the man instantly.
“I’ll read it here, then. I’m sure I’ll have questions as I go.”
“There will be no more registrations today, so that is fine.”
“Hey, hey, he’s really here! The Lone Blade has really fallen!”
The words cut through Studd’s calm response as the guild doors slammed open, rattling on their hinges. Noise crashed into the hall. Gil’s brow twitched with irritation as he turned to look. Studd’s face did not move, but the vein rising on his temple betrayed his simmering anger.
The man who entered spat insults as he strode inside, grinning as he made straight for Gil. His physique was thick and powerful, in contrast to Gil’s lean frame, and a massive greatsword was strapped to his back.
The other adventurers didn’t look surprised—clearly, they were used to such antics—but their eyes gleamed with curiosity as they glanced between Gil and the newcomer.
“So this famous Lone Blade is teaming up with someone? And all you found was a pretty boy?!”
“What the hell—who said you could toss my name around, bastard? Who the hell are you supposed to be?”
“...You’ve got some nerve.”
Of course, Gil knew perfectly well who the man was. Since arriving in this country, he had been pestered repeatedly by invitations to join this man’s party. Enough times that forgetting his face was impossible.
The man’s group was B-rank, and he never tired of repeating that with Gil, S-rank would be within reach. Frankly, Gil wanted nothing more than to do as always—ignore him and walk away.
But when Gil glanced at Lizel, he saw the man hadn’t reacted at all since the intruder entered. Instead, he was calmly leafing through the booklet he’d been handed. Surely he noticed the commotion—but his relaxed air suggested he wasn’t the least bit worried the insults might turn on him.
“As for this rule about leaving the guild...”
“...That refers to—”
Even Studd, who was usually unflappable, faltered for a heartbeat at Lizel’s utterly casual question—as if he hadn’t even noticed someone barging in and yelling. Still, it had the effect of cooling Studd’s temper. The frigid air radiating off him melted away at once, replaced by professional composure.
Gil sighed. Lizel clearly wasn’t planning to move, and if Gil tried to leave, this thug would only turn on him. He straightened to face the man.
“Playing the loyal servant, eh? How touching.”
“You came here for a reason, didn’t you? We’re not pals, so quit running your mouth and get to it.”
Gil folded his arms, posture as upright as ever, leaning lightly on the backrest of an unused chair. The disinterest in his eyes was blatant, and it only made the man’s irritation boil over.
“You turn me down again and again, and then go pair up with a greenhorn?!”
“I didn’t form a party. I was hired. That’s all.”
“So the lone wolf finally got bought out by coin, huh?!”
The man’s mocking laugh rolled across the room. Gil didn’t bother to hide his indifference.
Yes, he looked like trouble incarnate, but he wasn’t the type to pick fights over petty taunts. If provoked, he’d ignore it, even walk away, no matter the insult.
By comparison, this loudmouth felt like a child—throwing a tantrum because someone valued Lizel, a total novice, more than him.
“About the guild’s management responsibilities toward adventurers...”
“We do not interfere excessively, but in emergencies we will intervene. For example, if damage spreads beyond what can be considered within an adventurer’s scope, then guild staff—”
To Gil, it was a false choice to even compare the two, but the man seemed convinced otherwise. While listening to the calm exchange of questions and answers going on behind his back, he brushed off the shouting man with casual indifference.
Perhaps his attitude had shown too plainly. The man ground his teeth together, then suddenly broke into a sly grin.
“So that pretty boy’s really your type, huh? Got you whipped, has he?”
Now he was trying to drag Gil’s reputation down with cheap insinuations. Everyone watching would know it was nonsense. Rumors might spread, but no one would seriously believe it.
Still, if Gil protested too loudly, it would only look worse. He sighed—just as he sensed Lizel turn around behind him. When he glanced back, Lizel was staring up at him with an absurdly serious expression—so obviously put-on it was infuriating.
“So that’s what you’re into, Gil? Our one-month contract will end today, then...”
“Disgusting. Appalling. Unbelievable.”
“Idiot.”
Gil smacked Lizel lightly on the forehead with the back of his hand. It made a nice thwap, though it didn’t hurt at all—perfectly judged.
He knew Lizel didn’t believe a word of it, but he couldn’t miss the frosty gleam in Studd’s eyes. The clerk knew it was just an insult—but still seized the chance to pass judgment. Why, though? Gil thought grimly.
“But it would be a problem if working with me drags Gil’s reputation down.”
“Hah? Nobody’s gonna believe a word that idiot says.”
So that was why Lizel had spoken up. Even while keeping his questions flowing, he’d been listening all along.
He tapped Gil’s side, and Gil understood. Rising slightly from the chair-back he’d been leaning on, he shifted aside—so that Lizel, still seated, was now face-to-face with the man for the first time.
“I understand your grievance. But Gil and I are bound by a proper contract. Complaints on your part are misplaced.”
“Proper contract, my ass! You just threw money at him!”
“Do you really think Gil would move for money alone?”
The man froze, caught off guard. Until moments ago, he’d been insulting Gil as if he were cheap enough to be bought—implying the same about himself, since he had been trying to recruit him. Did he even realize the irony?
“Well then. If you believe that, why don’t you try outbidding me?”
Lizel’s smile didn’t waver, but his eyes narrowed. Gil at his side, Studd seated like a model of perfect posture behind him—both pairs of eyes turned sharp as blades on the loudmouth.
And from Lizel himself, who looked as though he commanded the two, it wasn’t just words. For a heartbeat, the man felt the weight of presence one might expect before an S-rank adventurer—an unspoken pressure that silenced him mid-breath.
“I doubt you could ever afford him.”
Lizel smiled sweetly, and the moment the man grasped the meaning behind his words, he snapped. A ripple of murmurs spread among the guild’s adventurers.
The pretty-faced Lizel, who looked like nothing more than a delicate noble’s son, had just dismissed a burly, muscle-bound veteran as beneath him. That was not the kind of boldness a rookie should have possessed.
Yet his unchanging smile and complete lack of tension carried the poise of a seasoned warrior. In that instant, the crowd abandoned the notion that Lizel was just some rich boy buying capable allies.
At the same time, they finally understood why Gil—the lone wolf who never partnered with anyone—had taken an interest in him.
“You bastard... Do you even know who I am?! That guy you paid off? I’m the same B-rank as him!”
“B-rank? Splendid.”
At last, the man heard words that sounded like praise, and his lips twisted into a grin. Perhaps this whelp finally realized who he had provoked. Good—let him kneel, beg, grovel, anything to restore the man’s pride.
But he never noticed that he was the only one clinging to that fantasy. Glaring at Lizel, he tried to patch back together his shattered dignity.
Then he realized—there had been more to Lizel’s words.
“However...”
Lizel tilted his head ever so slightly. On a girl it would have been an adorable gesture. Here, it looked like the signal for an execution. The air itself seemed to shiver. Everyone felt it—this man had seized control of the room.
“Placing you on the same level as what is mine... is utterly revolting.”
The man exploded, screaming incoherently, his words lost to his rage and humiliation.
With a roar, he tore the massive greatsword from his back. Lizel, still smiling, did not so much as flinch.
It took less than a second for a strike worthy of the B-rank name to descend upon him. It took Gil less than half that to draw his blade and cut the attack down.
The greatsword shattered at its base, the severed blade spinning through the air. Gil caught it between his fingers, pinning it as easily as a leaf in the wind, then swung up his long leg.
“Ghhk—!!”
The kick landed square in the man’s solar plexus, hard enough to whistle through the air. His massive frame shot backward like a ragdoll. The guild’s heavy doors bent with a deafening crash, then splintered open as his body blasted outside.
The gale left in the wake of Gil’s strike brushed past a moment later, lifting the stunned onlookers’ hair. Silence held them all in place—but not for long.
“Hey.”
The single word cut through the ringing aftermath. Gil lowered his foot, sheathed his blade as if nothing had happened, and turned.
Behind him, Lizel gently pressed down on Studd’s hand, which had been half-raised.
“Guild regulations say staff mustn’t interfere in disputes between adventurers. I read that just now.”
“...It only means we aren’t obliged to step in. It’s not forbidden.”
“Good. I’d have been worried if you ended up punished.”
Studd lowered his gaze to his left hand. He still felt a twinge of irritation that Lizel had stopped him at the moment of casting, but the boy’s concern disarmed him. He let it go.
The man who had just been hurled out of the building meant nothing—but Lizel had cared about him. What Studd felt was something he had never experienced before, a childish sense of superiority. His face, as always, betrayed nothing.
“Funny. A guy who calmly keeps filing papers even when fists are flying in front of him is acting like this now.”
“The attack might have hit me on its way. It was an accident. Be quiet.”
Studd snapped back, though even he knew—he had never thought about protecting himself in that moment. The only thing he had wanted was to erase the threat to Lizel.
Why had he thought that? He couldn’t explain it, except that Lizel’s presence had provoked it.
Gil, smirking knowingly as if he could see straight through that thought, looked down at him. Studd glared back, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.
“If you understood it, then you must have felt the same thing.”
“That’s my job.”
Dodging the accusing look, Gil tossed the broken blade onto the desk. Lizel, who had returned to reading the guild regulations as if nothing had happened, looked up when he finished.
His eyes fell on Gil’s sword, already back in its sheath. And as if something occurred to him, he turned toward Gil.
“You held back from cutting him down? Well, I for one am grateful.”
“If it’s obvious who started it, they won’t make me clean it up. It’s still a damn hassle though.”
“Wait... does that mean we have to fix the door, too?”
“Just leave the repair money. That’s enough.”
Lizel glanced down at the handbook in his hand. Nowhere in its pages was such a rule written, yet clearly it was an unspoken understanding in this place.
There was still so much for him to learn, and the thought brought him quiet delight. He thanked Studd as he handed the booklet back. After all, the handbook wasn’t the only reason he had come here today.
“Well then, my first quest...”
He rose to his feet, scanning the guild anew. The air still trembled with unease, and countless adventurers kept a wary eye on their every move.
In short—it made things terribly awkward. Lizel himself didn’t mind, but the constant restraint of those around them weighed on him.
“Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow.”
“Figured you’d say that.”
“Studd, we’ll be back tomorrow. Please add the repair cost for the door to our bill then.”
Leaving those words behind, Lizel and Gil stepped out of the guild. Outside, a crowd had gathered around the unconscious man sprawled on the ground. Ignoring the scene, the two returned to their inn.
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